


And I had a feeling that I belonged

by kjstark



Series: Red Like A Star [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: M/M, i had rhodey!feels now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:31:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a look into what the events of Iron Man 3 did to Rhodey, and Bucky's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I had a feeling that I belonged

"I hate it," Rhodey's word slipped from his mouth along with his sigh, and he shifted lightly from where he was lying, because it felt heavy to say it out loud. "Truth to be told," he added then.

Bucky raised his head for a second to give him a look, but then rested his head against the pillow again and sighed. "I get it, I'd hate it, too," he complied.

"Would you?" Rhodey wondered, next to him Bucky shrugged.

"Do you really want my opinion?" he asked, pausedly. And Rhodey figured Bucky'd ask that question before he even worded it.

They've been at this... _game_ for quite a long time, now. Pushing and pulling at something they couldn't name, something they couldn't grasp. Despite to popular belief, Rhodey wasn't all that emotionally available; I mean- take a look at it: the guy was in his middle forties and hadn't had a girlfriend in nearly ten years. And saying that James Barnes, former soviet brainwashed trained assassin, was emotionally unavailable was beyond an understatement.

So Rhodey never touched the topic, never even thought about it. Because that's the guy he was, always ignoring his personal issues for the sake of his development in the field.

And he vaguely questioned if this was what he'd signed for.

"Yes," he replied, biting his lower lip, a little anxious.

Bucky moved the metal arm to the back of his neck and accommodated his head against it. "I guess, if someone made me wear stars and stripes after being who I was, even who I am now, well, I think they'd be pretty crazy to even ask for it," he chuckled. "But I'm not sure if I'd do it. You and I are different, we react differently, hence, the reason why I'm still a sergeant and you have a pretty full-bird in your shoulders, Colonel," he pressed his lips, making a face, and turned his face to Rhodey. Rhodey turned back for a second and then went back to stare at the bright white ceiling.

"Be honest," he asked, shaking his head.

"No, _you_ be honest," he fully turned his body now, and stared down at him. Rhodey gave him a frowned look. "Look around you, there are no politics here, no officers, no agents. Just me, the guy who couldn't possibly judge in this lifetime," Bucky spoke, raising his eyebrows.

"I was my own thing," he bit his lips harder. Because, even if it wasn't, it felt a little like betraying his country. It wasn't humbleness, Rhodey just didn't like being selfish. "War Machine, that was mine, it was nobody's image. No name. No owner. Just me and the armor, no government behind, even when it was behind my every moves," he explained, and air turned heavier. Bucky said nothing, just kept looking at him. So Rhodey continued, "War Machine was Tony's joke, the suit was his, I know that. But I took it, Bucky, and it was like everything it was meant to be, mine. I know deep down that was Tony's plan, and back then I hadn't felt the need to thank him for that, but now, I almost feel like crying," he swallowed. "War Machine was everything I wanted that I didn't know, the feeling of pure freedom, the feeling of living that dream of helping, of making a change," he said, the pressure that was caught up in his chest loosing up lightly.

"And the Iron Patriot?" Bucky interrupted, asking.

"I hate that name," he laughed, bitterly.

"Like I hate Winter Soldier?" Bucky smiled along, too.

"It could've been worse."

"I know," he agreed. "I think I was drunk when I came up with it. Maybe my brain was frozen," he joked.

"You know what I really hated?" Rhodey asked, and Bucky raised his eyebrows, waiting "when they called me Iron Man at the beginning," Bucky went back to his place with a heavy whine.

"Aw, yes!" he yelled, "I hear someone else call me 'sidekick' and somebody's head is going to get blown off," he said, faking annoyance, although he might feel that way a little. Rhodey cracked a laugh, and then he sighed deeply. And Bucky remembered, "You didn't answer me, though," he stared at him, again.

"Iron Patriot? Iron Patriot isn't me. He's a pawn in a political chess game," Rhodey said, bitterly, pressing his lips together. Bucky looked at him, understanding. "I had dinner at his place once, you know," Rhodey said later, suddenly.

"The vice-president's?" Bucky asked. Rhodey nodded slowly, remembering how blindingly stupid he'd been. "Rhodey," Bucky called.

"I felt like an idiot," he spat.

"Yeah, but you did save the freakin' president, you know?" He complimented. And Rhodey tried to shrug like it wasn't a big deal, but his body didn't move.

"I can't look at him straight anymore, at none of them, I'm just tired-," Rhodey paused, trying to find the right words.

"Of being played," Bucky supplied, and Rhodey felt an urge to smile. Because in a hypothetical world, he was in love with Bucky because of this.

"Of not knowing what the stakes are, what's at game," he added, too.

Bucky turned his face to him, again, "What do you need?" He asked.

"What do you think?" And Rhodey really wanted to know. "And yes, I want your opinion," he said before Bucky asked again the same permission.

Bucky smirked at little, but he wasn't looking at him anymore "I think you're stuck," he said flatly. Rhodey frowned, because he wasn't expecting that, and he was turning his body to the side to look at Bucky better, but said nothing. "You’re dreaming something that can never be possible. The military, the government, the country, Jesus, even the whole world, is all corrupted, Rhodey," he did what Rhodey asked him to do: give his opinion. His shaped-by-his-very-dark-experiences opinion. "It's not about helping people anymore, it's about who owns who, who has the bigger gun," and maybe in another moment Rhodey would've made a joke about that, but not now. Bucky turned his body to him, face inches away from his "I'm not going to say it, to suggest it. Because you and I are different, but I get the way you think, and I know you get mine. So, I'll just say this: it's okay if you want to ask questions, it's also okay for you to do what you truly want to do, sometimes. Stop thinking so much about what they'll think, what Tony or any other of your friends could say," he advised, and all Rhodey could see was deep blue "You gotta let people handle themselves every once in a while. Your place isn't always at their disposition," Bucky finished, shaking his head.

"Then where's my place?" Rhodey pleaded, and Bucky brought the metal hand to his cheek. Rhodey will always be amazed about the fact that it didn't feel cold at all against his skin every time Bucky touches him.

"You really want to know?" He asked, smirking, and Rhodey felt like punching him.

"Well, right now, it's right here, in your empty, brand-new apartment, with the pieces of a man who really cares about you," he whispered, like it was a classified secret. And pressed their lips together, like he had to, like it was his duty.

And maybe he didn't know who was he really working for, maybe he wasn't sure if this thing with Bucky was going somewhere healthy, maybe he didn't have everything figured out. But in that moment, with a broken soldier on top of him, finding his way into trusting him enough as to talk to him, he felt like he belonged somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really miss War Machine *pout*


End file.
